Rookie Reassurance
by TheTBone
Summary: "Something happened to me on the job. It was part of the reason why I had to leave." "Somebody you worked with?" "Something not worth pursuing." Even in the city the ghosts of Amanda's past continue to haunt her. Oneshots based on a scene in "Educated Guess." Mainly Rollins/Benson friendship.
1. Chapter 1

** I don't own it, thank you for asking.**

She could see her breath fogging in a cloudy puff in front of her as she walked the last few feet of the sidewalk to the precinct in the chilly air of a New York night. Well, if you were being technical about things, it was extremely early morning, 2:28 to be exact.

Olivia pulled her coat tighter about her, the wind whipping her hair and scarf simultaneously framing her face, and reaching her gloved hand out to open the door to her workplace. Yawning, she removed her gloves and balled them up before stuffing them into her right pocket and unbuttoning her coat.

She rubbed her now exposed cold, slightly reddened hands together and decided that for the sake of her warmth, exhaustion, attitude, and mental sanity, she needed to make some coffee, pronto.

Heading to the small break room lounge and makeshift kitchen space, she could hear the slight buzzing of the fluorescents, the motion activated lights sensing her presence and in return making their presence known. Her long, black coat moving from the position of being slung over her arm to being flung over a plastic chair, she grabbed a paper filter and filled the stained pot with water, placing both in their respective places in the God-sent machine in one, swift motion before sloppily and mindlessly measuring out a few scoops of heavenly-scented brown grinds from the metal tin.

While she waited for the caffeinated liquid to complete its cycle, she took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes, hearing a faint, irregular clicking sound. Raising an eyebrow she waited for it again. Figuring it to be too loud for a scampering rodent and far too quiet to be a leaking drain pipe, she walked around to investigate.

Peeking out the door to the main workspaces she spied a faint glimmer of light on a desk. Calculating the positioning along with the small chunk of blond hair she could see, she assumed Rollins was seated behind the wooden table.

What would she possibly be doing here at this hour? Olivia wondered.

She herself was only here to file some paperwork and run some quick scans proving Gia's mental state and hospital record.

About to pull out a second mug out of courtesy and consideration, regardless of why she was here in the first place, she stopped herself and thought. After contemplating for a few moments, she now had a faint understanding as to why Amanda was here so late. When the wave of comprehending rushed over her, she reached for the mug again and started a second drink.

After she was finished with the prosaic tasks, she sauntered into the squad room, nursing the two warm glasses in her hands. A formerly focused Rollins glanced up in surprise and jumped a little as she heard the imposing footsteps, wondering who the impending strides could belong to. She gave a small smile filled with various emotions, and Olivia couldn't put her finger on it as she made her way over. Was it sheepishness? Nervousness? Relief? Fear? A mixture of all of them?

"Sorry if I scared you," Olivia said as she gently placed the cup graciously by the computer.

"It's all right; I just thought I was the only one in here. How long have you been here?" Rollins asked, closing the tab on her screen and turning to give her full attention to Olivia.

"Not long," Olivia said shrugging.

Rollins nodded. "What's this?" she asked, gesturing over at the cup now occupying the corner of the desk next to her elbow as her arms were crossed over her torso and resting on the surface.

"Peppermint tea, drink some," Olivia gently instructed.

"I'm not really in the mood to-"

"Amanda," Olivia cut her off, "you have to get something in you, and I know for a fact you skipped dinner," she said, recalling her passing when the rest of them ordered some Chinese food.

Rollins' eyes darkened when Olivia picked up on the detail. She should have known, she was a detective after all.

"Look," Olivia's voice softened, "you can't just stop eating. Plus, this stuff works miracles with soothing your stomach. I should know, I lived off of it the first couple weeks I worked here."

"I don't think it's really my stomach itself that's the problem," she mumbled before taking a small sip.

The two sat in silence for awhile before Rollins spoke up again.

"This job, does it ever get easier?"

"No," Olivia said honestly. After a pause she added, "But it does get better."

"How do you reckon that?" She asked, looking over at Olivia again.

Olivia struggled to find the right words, finally coming up with an explanation as best you could. "Because you figure out it doesn't matter how you feel. You don't do it for yourself, to feel like a hero; you do it for the victims. Because no matter what hell you think you're going through working it, they're going through it hundreds of times worse. Your job is to make sure they get justice by making sure the perps that caused them so much pain get it back ten-fold."

Rollins slowly agreed, soaking in the supposed wisdom of her superior.

"So what are you doing here anyway?" Olivia asked.

"Researching possible predators near the institution," Rollins replied, touching the mouse and bringing the screen back to life again.

"Come up with anything?" Olivia asked curiously, pulling a seat over and peering over her shoulder.

"Not much."

"What exactly are you searching?"

"Anyone with a record involving a sexual crime within a couple blocks of the place, but no one seems like our guy yet."

Biting her tongue, Olivia let her go about it without making a suggestion.

"You can just say what you want, I know you're dying to," Rollins said playfully, looking behind her shoulder at Olivia.

"I wasn't going to-" she started to defend.

"Yes you were. And I want you to. You've been doing this longer, and I need a little help if I'm going to get the hang of it," she reassured.

"How did you know I wanted to say something?"

"Your clenched jaw kind of gave it away," she said with an amused expression.

Olivia allowed herself a bashful smile at her own expense and obviousness. "I was just going to say that I think who we're looking for wasn't random. Gia was targeted, and since she was mentally ill, I think it has to have been someone close to her. Ex-boyfriend, family member, co-worker, someone like that."

Without any sign she'd heard her, she glanced over to see Rollins looking in the distance, a glazed look in her eyes, a slight crease in her forehead and a barely visible quiver to her lip, a tiny twitch in the eyebrow, a minor flare in the nostrils and the minute detail that she was pressing her teeth together, clamping on a miniscule portion of the inside of her lip and letting out a barely audible, involuntary whimper. Olivia had to close her eyes for a second once she realized her now obvious mistake.

But now it was too familiar. Almost like looking in a mirror, besides the insignificant fact that her eyes were a light blue contrary to her own deep brown ones.

She was reliving a painful memory, the memory of her situation with a co-worker back in Georgia no doubt, and Olivia had triggered it. For that she felt miserable, knowing the pain she was making her go through, and by extent the pain she herself was causing for her own person.

Pushing the memories of Sealview to the very back of her mind, she controlled the various and numerous urges she had regarding the matter at hand. She wanted to demand her to talk about the assault, give her a hug, and crawl up in a ball and disappear from the mere thought of her own lurking nightmare at the same time, deciding against all of them and maintaining composure.

It might be good though, she thought, it might be okay. Even though Olivia was disappointed when Rollins had told her she didn't prosecute, she'd said herself that it wasn't about the putting away, it was about when you talked to someone about it, and they believed you. Maybe they could bond over this. Conditions weren't ideal, no, but the subject matter could give them a strong connection Olivia hadn't found with anyone else.

No one else had gone through the blame, the hurt, the guilt, the fear, the reliving, and the scars. They sympathized, but couldn't emphasize. And even after therapy, it never went away.

Not ever.

"If you ever need, or want, to talk about…that. Or anything really, you know where to find me," Olivia offered softly, a glimmering hope she would take her up on the offer immediately, curious and silently begging to help.

Rollins nodded, "I'll keep that in mind," she said, offering another minute grin.

Olivia nodded and stood up.

"Hang in there, kid," she said, both supporting her and affirming her presence. She put a hand on the younger detective's shoulder and looking into her eyes, "you're okay."

Rollins recognized the double meaning, and they both made her relieved as Olivia walked away to her own work.

She thought maybe she could do it. Maybe she could make it. And maybe, just maybe, she could live this life.

**I know the timing of this scene is a little off, and since Rollins' past is a little blurry, I might have accidentally enhanced some things, but I hope you liked it anyway! I proofread, but I could definitely have let something slip. If I did, please tell me and I'll go back and fix it. Thanks! A review would be great! =)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own SVU. **

Amanda Rollins sat solemnly and reserved at her desk, robotically shuffling through various, intimidating stacks of seemingly endless paperwork. Document after document, form after form, page after page she shifted through the bland, tired manuscripts, bored and unfocused. She anxiously, though unconsciously, shook her leg under the table, sending a small earthquake to the desk directly adjacent to her own.

Nick Amaro looked up with a puzzled expression; his pen paused in mid-stroke as he furrowed an eyebrow at the unusually jumpy detective. She didn't seem to notice his eyes upon her, even after few moments of fruitless starting she continued to frantically read the files as if they held the latest New York Times bestseller rather than a standard sheet of work destined to be filed away, shunned, and forgotten about for years to come.

"Something wrong?" He inquired after growing tired of starting at her toiling. "Rollins?" he questioned again, after the first phrase got no response.

"Huh?" her head snapped up from the desk, her bloodshot ice-blue eyes looking at her coworker with surprise and a trace of irritation.

"I asked if something was wrong," Nick repeated again, with a sympathetic half-smile.

"No, why would you ask?" she shook her head and replied quickly, her eyes on the brink of a sarcastic roll.

"I don't know, you just seem kind of…on edge," Amaro shrugged innocently.

"Well, I'm fine. It's been a long day," Amanda defended, sweeping a hand across her forehead to swipe her bangs back before glancing down at the mountain of paperwork still to come.

"Look, why don't you call it a night? You look pretty tired. I'm sure the Captain would understand if you took a-"

"I'm just a little drained from the case," _and my sister_, she bit back the thought. She didn't want to complain. Plus, she could handle it. No big deal. She'd dealt with worse.

"Are you sure? Because I can cover for you."

"Don't worry about it," she snapped and shrugged off the offer, growing impatient at the constant suggestions from her peer. "I'm almost done anyway; I'd rather just get it over with."

Amaro clenched his teeth, but managed a small smile and a nod. "Sure. I understand."

They settled into an icy silence as they continued to work independently, each minding their own business and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Amaro stole glances at the southern blonde pounding away on her keyboard with much more force than necessary, but bit his tongue. He didn't want another confrontation.

Amanda's chair piercingly screeched across the floor as she got up to make her way to the file cabinet across the room, manila folders in hand. As she treaded over to the metal cabinets, she was overwhelmed with a sensation of dizziness and haze. Bombarded and caught off guard by the suddenness and intensity of the nausea, she stifled a shriek at the extreme discomfort. Feeling as if she was going to faint or at the very least stumble over herself, she attempted to slyly grip the nearest table, propping her weight onto her hands and closing her eyes until the lightheadedness passed her. Taking a breath, she allowed the feeling to pass over her like a wave before lifting her head to embark on the rest of her trek. However, she was greatly dismayed to glance over to see Nick with a look of shock and horror plastered to his face.

She knew that this one wouldn't be as easy to get out of, but instead of letting her face crumble into tears and her knees buckle under her as she so desperately wanted, she countered the reflex, sending him a harsh look. "What?" she nipped.

"You almost passed out," he said obviously.

"No I didn't," she dismissed the notion with the wave of her hand. "I almost tripped. What can I say, I'm clumsy. You're looking at a klutz," she clucked, returning back to her seat.

"Stop lying," Nick said bluntly.

"I'm not," Amanda gritted through her teeth. "And if I was, it wouldn't be any of your damned business anyhow. So why don't you leave me the hell alone so I can get this work finished," Rollins retorted forcefully. "I still have a lot to do," she ended the discussion by submerging herself back into her work.

"But Rollins, you've gotta sleep sometime," Amaro refused to end the conversation, earning him a glare from Rollins. "When's the last time you took a break?"

"Again, I'm not seeing how that concerns you," Rollins hissed, frantically scribbling across her paper, refusing to even look up at him.

Amanda's unusually nitpicky and cold behavior was beginning to concern Amaro. She was usually the most positive, easy-going one in the squad room, but today it was like she was a whole other person.

"Look, you can't do your job well if you're running on no energy. Why don't you just go up to the cribs and-"

"I'm fine! All I want to do is finish this work, which you are making extremely difficult with your lectures, all right? So drop it, and leave me the hell alone!" Amanda yelled.

"God Rollins, what's your deal? I'm trying to help you! What, is it your time of the month or something?" Nick shouted back impulsively. He regretted the words the very instant they passed his lips, but of course, it was too late to take them back. He immediately felt guilty for letting his temper get the best of him, especially at this moment and especially with Amanda. He was her partner; he was supposed to have her back, not stab it the moment he got frustrated.

Amanda slammed her pen down on the desk, sending a fiery look searing into Amaro's eyes along with an avalanche of paperwork plunging to the ground with a bang. "I'm taking my lunch!" She announced to the squad.

"Amanda, wait," Nick tried to stop her from leaving. Fin, who had witnessed the second half of the ordeal, put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Let her go, man," Fin said, still holding him in place.

"I didn't mean to-" Nick started to apologize.

"I know."

"I just-"

"She just needs to cool down. There's obviously something going on there, just give her some time, she'll come around."

Nick reluctantly nodded, sitting back down in his seat and trying to focus on the words in front of him. However, Rollins' out of character behavior invaded all of his thoughts.

Seeing his apprehension, and knowing his history of spur-of-the-moment decisions, Fin decided to take precautionary action before performing the next thing on his agenda. "Hey Munch," he asked the older man.

"Yes, my darling?" Munch said sarcastically, looking up at Fin with his wire-framed glasses.

Too tired to call the old geyser out on his newest bizarre pet name, Fin ignored the title he was given for the time being. "Hey, do you mind keeping an eye on my man over there? I'll be right back, just gotta tell the Captain something," he said quietly, hoping Amaro couldn't overhear him hiring a babysitter on his account.

"Sure thing," Munch said, not adding any peculiar remarks at the end of the sentence, sensing Fin's serious demeanor.

"Thanks man, I owe you one," Fin replied, sneaking a glance over at Amaro, who, though looked uncomfortable and uneasy, was obediently filing some documents away.

Satisfied at the state in the squad room, Fin wandered down the hall leading to the Captain's office. He knocked on the door, and inched it open it to see Olivia and Cragen having a conversation across the desk.

"Sorry, Captain, am I interrupting something?" He asked, taking a cautious step into the room, apologizing for possibly butting in a private matter.

"Not at all Fin, come on in," Cragen motioned him into the office, casually sitting with his arms folded. Fin glanced over at Olivia, wondering if he should reveal this information to only the Captain, quickly deciding against it. Sure, this may be a sensitive matter, but it was Olivia for God's sake. Everyone trusted Olivia. She would never use something like this to hurt anyone else.

"Look, uh, Captain. I don't really know how to say this, but I think you need to have a talk with Rollins," he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. He didn't want to be a snitch, but he was worried about Amanda. She was usually the tough-but-sweet girl, but was lately acting like more of the vulnerable-but-angst-ridden one.

"Why? Is something wrong?" Olivia spoke up with surprising speed, worry saturating her tone.

"I don't know, she just seems kind of on edge lately. She doesn't want to listen when I suggest she grab something to eat, and she nearly bit Amaro's head off when he made a joke. I'm just worried about her, Captain," he explained. He just cared so much about Amanda. He felt the pull to protect her, and help her through what she was going through, whatever that something was.

Cragen sighed, rubbing his hands together. "I see. Well, I'll go talk to her, see if something's up," he put his hands on either side of his chair, preparing to get up and go to the troubled young woman.

"She said she was taking her lunch break, but honestly I think she just went to get some fresh air," Fin informed.

"All right, I'll go and-"

"No wait," Olivia said, stopping him, "I'll go."

"You sure? You don't have to do that, Olivia," Cragen questioned.

"Yeah, I'll see what's up. Maybe she'll be more comfortable talking to a woman, you know, if it's relationship trouble or something," Olivia offered some advice, and an example she knew to be false. There was no way this was dating trouble, Rollins could easily hide that. No, this was something bigger, and it had been going on a long time. It was something that was flaring up, something she'd gotten a taste of in the past. Now it was time to do it all again.

SVU SVU SVU

"Smoke break, huh? How very eighties of you," Olivia said, stepping out of the back exit of the building, spying Amanda, cigarette in hand, blowing a nicotine-infested cloud into the air.

"Yeah, well, I gotta find some way to relieve the stress that is Kim," she replied nonchalantly, leaning on the brick wall and sending another puff into the air.

"'Cigarettes kill.' 'Tobacco is whack-o.' 'Insert shocking statistics and disturbing, scarring, pictures of healthy and smoking lung here.' Come on, Rollins, do you need the speech? I can make a nice PowerPoint if you'd prefer."

"There's nothing illegal about this, so put your pamphlets away. It ain't gambling at least," she mumbled.

"Gambling?" Olivia inquired.

"Nothing," Amanda covered quickly.

Olivia dropped the subject, afraid to push the issue too hard when there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"So what's going on with you?" Olivia asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" Amanda avoided eye contact with Olivia, instead occupying herself by rolling her cigarette around in her fingers.

"I head about your little thing with Amaro. What was that about?" she asked innocently.

Rollins rolled her eyes. "He made some douche comment, but what do you expect? He's a male cop, they aren't exactly known for being gentle." Amanda angrily tossed her cigarette on the ground, relentlessly squishing it under her shoe.

Olivia recognized this familiar territory. The generalization of the 'male cop' being harsh and evil was directly attributed to her experience in the past. That one little experience she had failed to fully disclose or release to anyone, now flaring up and about to explode in her face with the return of people from her past. She dropped the subject of Amaro and veered away from the hindering of recent events, not digging into something more personal, more general, and hopefully more effective.

"Have you been eating?" She asked pointedly.

Amanda snorted. "What do you mean 'Have I been eating?' of course I have. You have to eat to live," she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Olivia said, non-amused, her arms crossed and in a position for some tough love. Enough was enough, and coddling wasn't an option right now. She needed to insert some reality. Before true healing could begin, before the skin could grow back, you had to rip the band-aid, and everyone knows that the faster you do it, the less it was going to hurt in the long run. "Well, you see, I ask because I've noticed you've been losing weight. Your clothes have been fitting looser, and you look rather pale lately."

"Hm, I guess I'm just really watching my diet," Amanda explained.

"And how have you been sleeping?"

"Great, better than ever," Amanda plastered on a fake smile. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do," she stated, turning to go back inside.

"Hey," Olivia called after her. "Hey!" she tried again, after Amanda ignored her the first time. "Wait a minute," she lightly grabbed her arm to keep her from advancing.

"Get off of me!" Amanda instinctively yelled, pulling away from the touch as if she'd just touched a hot stove. Immediately, she was frustrated with letting her guard down and overreacting once more. It was just…her fears were always amplified at this time of the year. She couldn't help it, the worry was dominant and omnipresent, and she had no choice but to submit to it. She mumbled an apology, and stared at the squished cigarette on the ground, feeling lesser than even it at the moment.

Olivia leaned down to look into her eyes, with a look full of compassion, caring, concern. "Are you okay, hon?" she asked in the softest, more sincere voice anyone had ever used with her, which is why Amanda forgave her for the antagonizing, endearing term.

"Yup," Amanda replied; the lie almost sending her over the edge. Smiling and pretending was beginning to hurt too much. Holding the weight and holding the door of secrets shut was getting too unbearable.

"Are you sure?" Olivia asked the younger woman, internally pleading to let her offer just an ounce of physical comfort, for she knew no other way to express her desire to nurture the blonde. It was near-impossible to stop herself from reaching out and embracing the poor, damaged girl, but she had to remind herself that that was not what Amanda needed at the moment.

"It's just-" her voice cracked, a lone tear escaping her cheek. "It's just that it's been twenty-four months, exactly. To the day. Since it happened," she spoke in choppy sentences, running her wrist over her cheek to wipe off the sign of weakness.

Although she didn't directly mention it, or even allude to it this time around, Olivia knew exactly what she meant, understood what she was referring to before the words left her mouth.

They both stood facing each other, both waiting for the other to say something. Amanda's eyes were glossy, hurt, and confused. Why wasn't Olivia saying something? As stupid as it sounded, she wanted her to say something, a word of pity or two, so Amanda could reassure her that she was fine. In reassuring someone else, she had an excuse to reassure herself as well. She needed that, and Olivia knew it to. So the brunette stood there silently. She'd done enough. It was Amanda's move.

"Happy two-year anniversary to me," Rollins finally whispered, releasing a small sob as well. She hated herself for what she was about to do, but she told herself it was for Olivia's own good. She was obviously trying to help, and it was painfully visible that allowing her comfort would make her feel much better about herself. She rocked onto her toes, leaning towards the older woman.

The miniscule movement gave Olivia a sigh of relief, as she took this as her cue of permission, slowly, albeit a bit cautiously and awkward, as if afraid of another flinch, enveloped her in a hug.

It wasn't one of those rib-crushing ordeals, which Amanda was thankful for. She wasn't good with physical, touchy-feely things. The gentle embrace wasn't exactly the worst thing, either. It was somewhat soothing. Entirely inappropriate, sure, but she'd been through worse. So for a second, on Olivia's behalf of course, she allowed herself to appear delicate, and relax, let herself be supported and held and cared for.

However, Amanda swiftly pulled away and cleared her throat. She couldn't do this right now. Not here, not with Olivia. She had to maintain some self-discipline, some strength, some class. This was her workplace, not a hospital. Olivia was a coworker, not her damn therapist. She needed to get her act together and shake it off, and she also needed to control herself. Any more out-of-character outbursts would surely never go unnoticed now that this little fiasco had occurred.

"Look, uh, thanks for the concern and…this. But I really do have a lot of work to get done, so…" she motioned to the door, which Olivia was blocking.

"Sure," Olivia stepped aside, knowing that she'd barely made a dent. Amanda was clever; she could act like things were better than they were so easily that is was cause for alarm. "Just remember what I told you before, I'm here. Always, no judgment guarantee," she assured.

"Thanks," Rollins said with an honest smile, the first one in quite a long time, "I'll remember that. I promise," she said. And she would. Not just for Olivia's sake of her desire to fix things, but for her own use. This was a small moment, a tiny little piece of information she'd revealed, but it felt like a boulder.

Someone else knew the reason for her apprehension. It'd been two years. And a lot had happened since then. Like now she had a faint little glimmer, a sliver of a spark, of hope.

**Thanks to TangoSVU for being my beta for this!**


End file.
